All Chapters of Dangerous Attachment : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Rain drizzled over Manhattan as Damien parked outside a quiet café tucked between two old office buildings. It wasn't fashionable. It wasn't crowded. And that was exactly why Margaret had suggested it. Roman arrived a few minutes later, carrying a slim leather briefcase beneath his coat. Vivian followed close behind. The waitress led them to a private booth at the back of the café. Once she had taken their coffee orders and walked away, Damien reached into his briefcase. "I've been thinking about the hearing." Roman leaned forward. "So have I." Damien placed a copy of Marcus Hale's amended litigation strategy on the table. "I read this three times last night." Vivian looked at the marked-up pages. "You found something." "I found what isn't here." Roman smiled faintly. "I was hoping you'd say that." Damien looked at him. "The arguments Marcus removed all have one thing in common." "They rely on Morrison's financial disclosures." Vivian frowned. "The accounting re

The initials stayed in Damien's mind throughout the drive back from Blackwood & Vale. M.H. They could mean Marcus Hale. Or they could mean nothing at all. Experience had taught him one lesson every trial lawyer eventually learned. Assumptions lost cases. Evidence won them. --- The following morning, Damien met Roman and Vivian in Margaret Ashford's conference room. The archive withdrawal register lay open in the middle of the table. Roman broke the silence. "So..." "Are we accusing Marcus?" Damien looked up immediately. "No." Vivian seemed surprised. "But the initials—" "Are only initials." Damien interrupted gently. "If we build a case on assumptions, we're no better than the people trying to frame me." Roman smiled. "That's the answer I was hoping for." Damien picked up the register. "We verify everything." "Then we decide." --- Across the city... Nathan Cross walked into the New York Department of Motor Vehicles. A clerk greeted him politely. "What can

The morning after the Halcyon warehouse was abandoned, Nathan Cross returned. Not because he expected to find a miracle. But because experience had taught him that criminals who planned every detail often overlooked the smallest things when they ran out of time. Two detectives from his team met him outside the warehouse. "The search warrant has been approved, Detective." Cross nodded. "Let's begin." Inside, the warehouse was almost unrecognizable. The offices had been stripped clean. Desks were gone. Computers had vanished. Every filing cabinet stood open and empty. The evacuation had been systematic. Professional. Cross walked through each room slowly, studying every corner. He wasn't searching for obvious evidence. He was searching for intention. Near the rear office, something caught his eye. An ordinary brown envelope rested inside an otherwise empty filing cabinet. No name. No address. No fingerprints visible to the naked eye. He carefully opened it. Insid

The city was already awake when Vivian arrived at Margaret Ashford's office the following morning. She paused outside the conference room. The whiteboard was still covered with photographs, payment records and handwritten notes. Project Orion sat at the center. Everything else seemed to orbit around it. She took a deep breath before walking in. Damien looked up first. "Morning." His voice was calm as always. Roman followed a few seconds later. "You're late." Vivian frowned. "I was three minutes late." Roman glanced at his watch. "Three minutes is still late." She rolled her eyes. "And good morning to you too." A faint smile crossed Damien's face. Cross noticed the exchange but chose not to comment. Instead, he placed a new file on the table. "I've spent all night going through the information from the flash drive." Everyone's attention shifted immediately. "There are over two hundred coded transactions." "Most of them don't mean much on

Rain tapped steadily against the tall windows of Margaret Ashford's conference room. New York wore the dull grey of an approaching storm, and inside the room the atmosphere was no lighter. Nathan Cross stood at the head of the long oak table, a remote control in one hand. Behind him, a projector cast a web of names, dates, and financial transactions across the white screen. The words PROJECT ORION sat in the centre like the hub of a wheel, with dozens of lines branching outward. Around the table sat Damien Blackwood, Roman Ellis, Vivian Cole, Margaret Ashford, and Evelyn, who had joined them to help review the financial records she'd safeguarded since Damien's suspension. No one spoke immediately. Cross let the silence settle before breaking it. "We've reached the point where every decision matters." He clicked the remote. The screen changed to a timeline stretching back several years. "Up until now, we've been investigating. From today onward, we prepare for litigation." R